If you've turned to this page expecting a horror story this week, I'm about to disappoint you.
Last week, I left a letter here for my sister, who was brave enough to take on the challenge of babysitting for our first night away from Olivia. Things went fantastically well, minus a little crying jag from 2 to 5 a.m. No big deal to me, happens all the time. Little sister — a cosmetologist who is rarely seen in anything less than full makeup and perfect hair — was looking a little bit more "mom chic" when we returned Sunday, but she assured us she and her niece had a brilliant time reading books, dancing and, apparently, throwing food-loaded spoons across the kitchen. What mom doesn't know won't hurt her, I guess?